Under a Crimson Moon
by FireflyEmbers
Summary: In ancient Rome, a young woman caught up in a world of war and politics must grapple with her own heart, and with the wolf within.
1. Chapter 1

**1. **

"Rome is burning... Mother, do you see?" The young woman turned, pointing out the window to the orange glow that streaked across the horizon, smudged by the haze of thick smoke drifting through the buildings.

The fraile woman struggled to open paper-thin eyelids, squinting at the young woman framed by the marble window, destruction behind her. The effort was too great and she sank back into the opulent cushions of her bed with a softly desolate sigh. The young woman's brow furrowed and she hurried to her mother's side.

"... it has been burning for three days, my daughter. When will you close the window and let it burn?"

Silvana dropped to her knees next to her mother's bed, resting her cheek on the cool silk. She closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring. She could smell it; the stench of fire stung her nostrils even with all of the windows closed. "Will they come here, do you think?"

Her mother laughed, weakly. "Child, what possible reason could they have for coming _here_ of all places?"

A furrow creased the dark-haired young woman's brow. She opened her eyes; she could see the heavy wooden door from over her mother's thin form. She didn't have to try it to know it'd be locked. It was always locked, ever since Silvana could remember. All they had was this small room. It was nearly all Silvana had ever known.

You are right. They will not come here. There is no reason to." As much as her heart raced to think of seeing one of _them_, one of the elusive Gauls that so terrorized their city-state, her brain tempered her excitement. Even if they were to make it this far past the outer walls, there was nothing here but those who had fallen out of favor with the Senate and had been shut away out of spite -- or, like her mother, out of shame.

Her mother opened her eyes again, blinking rapidly as the watery orbs rested on her daughter. One trembling hand reached out, resting on the young woman's head. "They say Brennus is a cruel and uncivilized barbarian, daughter. You do not wish to meet him, not in this lifetime."

"I know," Silvana said with a soft sigh, turning to look out the window again, watching the glow even as the flickering lamps made shadows leap and dance across the white marble. "Though... if they _were_ to come, do you think they would let us out?"

A strained look crossed her mother's already stretched features, her narrow chest rising and falling shallowly. It was like a knife in Silvana's back, slowly twisting, to see her mother in such a state. "No. I think they would kill us. You are still daughter of Camillus... disowned as you are. They would mark their shields with your blood, as is barbarian custom."

Silvana's brow creased again and she lowered her head once more. Her mother reached out, sliding trembling fingers along that raven's wing hair. Such unique hair, Silvana had. No one else on either side of her family had such strange hair, not to mention her eyes. Dark brown, now, in the night-time there were moments were they seemed almost liquid gold, luminous like the moon's sheen.

"I am sorry," Silvana said softly, for a moment so much younger than her sixteen years. Any other young woman, as beautiful as Silvana, would have been married years ago. Her mother worried about the stain her shame would carry. It was bad enough, locked inside of these walls since before the girl could walk on her own, with only occasional escorts into the marketplace so Camillus could maintain appearances. Would her mother's sin take the rest of her future, as well? It was almost more than her sick heart could bear.

"Oh, Silvana... Soon I will be better, you will see. Then we will leave these walls, fly away, far away... Why, perhaps to Greece, or even further, to the very most distant of lands..." Silvana smiled and it lit up her face. Her mother cupped her cheek again, a quiet smile on her worn face. "There. That is better. Now... go close the shutters. Tightly. Then come lay by me."

Silvana nodded, and rose silently. She made no sound as she crossed to the wide, open window, pausing with her hands on the sides. From the bed, her mother watched her through bleary eyes, wondering what the young woman saw, other than destruction and death. It sent a shiver down the woman's spine. Perhaps Silvana had never seen death or known what war was like, but her mother had, and the dull glow of towns burning in the distance seemed closer tonight than any other night past.

Silvana closed the shutters tightly, pushing the slats together as easily as if she was handling gauze curtains. Her fingers drifted down the wood, gazing at it as if still trying to see what lay beyond. With a curl of black hair, she turned and returned to her mother.

Crawling up onto the couch next to her mother, Silvana lay on her side, closing her eyes. Her mother stroked her hair, humming a soft lullaby under her breath. Here, in their quiet room, in their forgotten building, they were safe from the terror that lay over the city thicker than the smothering smoke. Their walls were stone, their roof tile, so fire was no worry. She glanced over at the door. She knew from experience the wood was nearly a hand's span thick. It would take a brute plenty of time to break through it.

No, here in their prison they would be safe. Then, when the fires had faded and all that was left was ashes, she would hold her daughter close and wait for Rome to rebuild itself. She was sure it would; the very stones of Rome resonated with the promise of future power. They would stay safe, secluded, and Silvana would never know the truth of what lay beyond.

Thin fingertips brushed along the back of her daughter's neck, feeling the ridges that marred the otherwise flawless skin. It had killed her, the first time chaining the girl, at that time barely eight, had become necessary. Now it was nearly a routine. Just one more thing that had to be done to protect Silvana from the cruelest truth of all -- the truth about herself.

Her mother sighed, cracking watery eyes open one last time to take a look at her daughter, her beautiful, strong, cursed daughter.

"Silvana," she said quietly, watching as her daughter opened sleepy eyes to look up at her. "Silvana, no matter what happens, you must remember to take your medicine. Never forget to watch the days. Promise me, daughter. You will never forget."

The young woman propped herself up on her elbows, gazing at her mother with concern clear in her eyes. "... of course I will not. You have told me how important it is. I will not forget. Now please, do not talk like that. You are getting better, remember?"

Her mother met Silvana's eyes, then looked away. She'd stopped being able to hold her daughter's gaze a couple of years ago, when she realized that there was someone -- something -- else watching her. A being that knew all of the stains on the older woman's hands, all in the name of her daughter's happiness.

"Of course," she said, then closed her eyes. "Sleep, Silvana. Tonight is a good night -- a new moon."

"I like new moons," Silvana murmured sleepily, then was silent.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. **

The chestnut stallion pranced underneath him, nervous even as he impatiently pulled it to a halt next to the giant of a stallion Brennus sat on. The chieftan was hunched forward, brow low with thought as he stared out over the sloping cityscape before him. The stench of burning flesh and wood drifted up the hill to sting at both human and horse nose alike, making all in the waiting party shift uncomfortably.

Brennus roused, casting a glance over his shoulder at the assembled men and women, then looked back towards Rome again. His eyes were on the highest peak of the city, the only set of walls between them and total defeat of their ancient enemy -- Capitoline Hill. Once the hill fell, so would Rome, and his people would be safe again from the Roman greed and need for conquest.

"You've only brought a dozen, Belenus. Is that enough?"

Belenus looked over at his men and women, hardened warriors all of them, then turned back to Brennus. "More than. We'll get you your victory, Brennus, but in return, you have to remember your part of the deal."

Brennus straightened, sharp black eyes going to the man on the horse across from him. Even by the Gauls' standards, Belenus's people were unusual. Their hair was often long, braided with bits of stone and beads woven into them and they favored leather armor with craftmanship Brennus envied in his own armor, metal plates hammered and attached to leather basings. Both male and female carried swords and axes, bows and daggers, and both seemed equally proficient with using them.

Each and every one of them, down to the youngest warrior, had a _look_ to their eyes. Brennus couldn't explain it, but he knew the feeling -- these people were dangerous.

Exactly why he'd sought them out.

"I'll honor my part if you honor yours, Belenus. On my father's grave." He extended one calloused hand, his eyes not leaving Belenus's face for even a second. The dark-haired man considered for a moment, as if judging whether or not Brennus was telling the truth, then grasped Brennus's forearm.

"Don't make us ashamed to be on your side," Belenus warned with a grin, squeezing Brennus's arm. Brennus squeezed back just as hard; neither man showed even the smallest of flinches.

"I could say the same to you, Wolf." Then Brennus released Belenus.

The Pack's leader wheeled his horse around, kicking the beast back towards his companions. They fell into rank on either side of him, thirteen silent warriors armed to the teeth and hungry to do what they'd come here to do. Belenus could feel their tension and he approved, if only because he felt it too -- both sides of him.

Nostrils flared as he passed the hand that had grasped Brennus's past his nose on the pretense of adjusting a shoulder strap. He'd not smelt a lie or deception on Brennus, and neither had the other in him. Bloodlust, yes, and the burning desire for revenge, but there was no deception in Brennus, at least in this aspect. In others...? They would tread carefully in their dealings with him. Humans weren't as reliable as his people were.

Once they were out of earshot, Belenus reined his horse in the middle of a clearing. Nimbly, he leaped to his feet, resting a hand on the stallion's back to keep him calm. Around him, his pack dismounted, dropping their reins to the ground and gathering about him in a loose circle. Quiet. Waiting for him to speak.

"There is a building near the walls of Capitoline Hill. In this building there are enemies of the Roman leaders," Belenus began. He paused; no one interupted, just kept watching him, waiting. They knew him well. "The enemies are not our objective. There is a secret door to this building that leads to the very chambers the Senate uses. We will find this door and we will open it. Then we will tell Brennus and his men will do the rest."

"Why all of us? One of us could do it and be done with it by sundown."

Belenus turned to regard one of the younger men, a tall man of Frankish descent and a shock of bright red hair across his head. "Because, Fycus, it would take many more than one of them to do this. They would think me mad if I told them I would do it myself. Then they'd never agree to our terms. In addition, we'll need to hold the passageway until they get there, ensure that the Romans do not mount a defense. Understand?"

Fycus simply nodded, looking slightly abashed at not having thought of that himself. Belenus turned to the rest of the pack.

"Keep in mind, all of you, that this is not our homeland. This is not a dense forest where we can disappear at a moment's whim if things are going poorly. We must hunt together, as one unit, and keep each other safe. They may be only humans, but they are many, and very desperate. Any other questions?"

He looked at each of their faces, finding each one confident and battle-ready. Finally, he nodded his approval. "Good. Prepare. We leave at dusk."

The men and women nodded as one, then silently dispersed to go about their tasks -- cleaning and sharpening swords, checking armor, counting arrows, everything that a practiced group of warriors did. There was no nervous energy, only a heightened sense of purpose as they moved about their duties. Several fires were started, quickly banked and food produced to be roasted. Soon there was the mouth-watering taste of roasting meat drifting through the clearing, punctuated by the soft murmur of conversation.

Belenus strode among his warriors, watching them as they prepared. For many years they had lived in their mountainous solitude, spurning deals like the one he'd just made with Brennus. It'd been a hard decision for Belenus to make, but the tract of land Brennus was offering them was too tempting to pass up. Their people were growing -- slowly, but nonetheless growing -- and the small valley they currently dwelt in was getting .. cramped. His people needed a lot of space.

Thus he was here, dragging his people into a world and a conflict they had no part in. He paused to watch one of the women fletching arrows, hands on his hips.

"We shouldn't be here," a low voice said to his right. He didn't need to look to see who it was.

"It's necessary, Apona. Trust me."

The tall brunette folded her arms over her rather generous chest, staring at him with unflinching blue eyes. She was a solidly built woman, all curves and sinewy strength, a hint of far northern descent in her ice blue eyes. She was the head of the house hold, alpha female, and Belenus's right hand. "It's not you I distrust, m'lord, it's the word of someone from outside the Pack."

Belenus reached out, curling a hand around the back of her head. "In that case, my dear Apona, we will find his house and raze it to the ground and take what they owe us by force. Come now, don't tell me you doubt our strength against the Gauls'..."

The woman chuckled. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Belenus leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. "Your leader knows what he is doing, denmother."

She clapped him on the shoulder with as much force as any of the men. When he raised his eyes to hers, she was grinning widely. "Then what are you standing around here for, m'lord? Get yourself ready. I shall see to the rest of the preparations."

The dark-haired man chuckled, rolling his broad shoulders as he nodded. "So be it."

Apona watched as he strode off, to disappear amongst the trees and prepare himself to lead them into battle. She was joined by another man, short and nothing but muscle and glinting black eyes.

"I en't likin' this, 'Pona."

"I'm not either, Fergus. But he's still the boss. Just tell everyone to be extra ready. Watch Brennus's humans as carefully as the others."

Fergus nodded, tilting his neck to the side until there was the pop of his bones realigning. "Wit' pleasure, denmother." Turning, he returned to his weapon, a double bladed axe, picking up his whetstone with one last look towards the forest beyond which Brennus's troops lay.


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

It was the silence that woke Silvana from her sleep. She came awake instantly, the night-filled room dark for a heart's beat before her eyes had adjusted. She'd always liked the night. There was something comforting about it, something soothing about the lack of the harsh light of day. Normally, however, the night was filled with distant sounds -- the buzz of crickets, the creak of carts passing in the streets below, the pad of the guards' feet up and down the hallways in their rhythmic turnings.

Not now, however. It was as if the night was holding her breath, waiting on something.

"Mother," she whispered, shaking her mother's arm gently. "Mother, wake up."

Her mother roused with a soft sound of protest, her eyes fighting to stay shut even as she pushed them open. Silvana was still staring at the door, listening with all of her being.

" Do you hear that?"

Her mother tilted her head, listening intently for a moment. Then she shook her head. "No, what..."

"Quiet," Silvana breathed, her golden eyes wide and luminous in the semi-dark. With uncanny grace, she slid from the bed, stalking slowly towards the door. Tilting her head, she stared at the tiny bar of light underneath the thick door.

With the all of the sudden ferocity of thunder rolling through the hills, there was the crash of metal on metal, a male grunt of pain, and a thud. Silvana jumped back as the light from the door suddenly disappeared.

"There's four of them," Silvana whispered.

"How do you know?" Her mother had propped herself up, gripping a knife she'd pulled from its hiding spot underneath the couch, the tip wavering back and forth visibily in her trembling grasp.

"Can you not hear them?" The young woman asked, blinking at her mother. The older woman shook her head.

"I hear nothing, no--"

"Sssshhh," Silvana hissed, stepping back quickly away from the door. She could hear them dragging the body away, dumping him somewhere else. Probably in the storage closet further down the hall. Then they were moving past, their feet making the light under the door flicker with passing shadows.

Several tense, long minutes passed. Finally there was only a beam of light and no more fleeting shadows. Silvana exhaled in relief, dropping to her knees. They'd gone, whomever they were. All she knew was that they were dangerous. She didn't know how she knew it, there was simply that hidden part of her, the part she always thought of as a guardian, telling her to be wary.

" -- cus, what are--"

"-- something odd... you smell tha--"

"-- wasting _time_, now come on, --"

"Move," came a deep voice, the timbre of which made part of Silvana tremble. A pair of feet moved in front of the light and Silvana instinctively took several steps back from the door.

"Silvana, what--" her mother began from the bed, but was interupted by the sudden flood of light as someone shoved the door open.

Firelight fell over Silvana from the torch one man was holding aloft, but her eyes adapted almost instantly. There were four of them, three men and a woman, all clad in leather and each bearing some sort of weapon. It was the man in front, however, that caught Silvana's utter attention. His eyes were a blue-grey, the color of the sky darkening before the furthest reaches of a midsummer's storm, his tousled hair dark as the clouds. There was something about him... He _pulled_ at her, in the same way she felt stretched thin on full moons.

"Begone, brutes!"

With a supreme effort of will her mother had risen from her couch and was standing -- swaying -- with the dagger held towards the strangers. The movement seemed to trigger something in one of the men -- a young redhead -- because in one smooth movement he'd notched an arrow to his bow and leveled it at her mother's heart.

"No!" Silvana screeched, throwing herself forward. She ripped the bow from the man's hands, manicured fingernails going for his throat. Shock registered across his face, but the tall man in front was already moving. She felt her fingers connect with the redhead's neck, but then she was yanked away and clasped hard against a warm, firm plane, an arm trapping her arms at her sides.

For a moment she was too stunned to do anything, but then she let out another cry of fury, writhing against the tall man's immovable arm. Her vision swam, head reeling as there came that _stretching_ feeling again, as if there was something inside of her fighting to get free. It was there, her guardian raising her head and so close to the surface she was bound to get out--

"_Stop_." The woman had taken Silvana's chin in her fingers, tilting the young woman's head up to meet her eyes. The word froze Silvana as thoroughly as a bucket of cold water to the face and she stared at the other woman in shock. Every time she'd felt that, that strange sensation of someone or something else about to take over her body, the only thing that had stopped it had been her medicine... until now.

Abruptly, the man released her, and Silvana would have fallen over if not for his strong hands on her shoulders. The top of her head barely reached the underside of his jaw, she noted, staring up at him, trembling and confused.

"Apona, hold her. I must speak to her mother." He shoved Silvana towards the woman, who wrapped a strong arm around the young woman's shoulders and drew her back into the hallway. The man disappeared into the room. From her position, Silvana could see him reach out, as if supporting her mother, then they both stepped back, out of sight. She stared towards the door, turning her keen hearing to listen.

"That's rude, you know." The youngest man had spoken, pulling his hand back from his neck to inspect the amount of crimson staining his fingers. She could smell it, the pungent tang of it against her nostrils, and it made her uncomfortable.

"What is?"

"Using your hearing. It's not fair, after all." The redhead glanced at the woman and the third male, a short square of pure muscle.

"If he has harmed even a _hair_ on my mother's head--" she began, fury making her tone tremble slightly. The woman's arm tighted around her shoulders, but just a quick squeeze before relaxing.

"Calm, child. Belenus is no murderer."

Silvana lapsed into silence, staring at the door, waiting. The woman didn't release Silvana, but her arm wasn't heavy, Silvana found. The men were staring in different directions; the redhead gazed up the hallway while the muscle-man watched the way they'd come. Time seemed to stretch on and even Silvana's hearing couldn't pick up on anything from the room.

Finally, just when Silvana thought she could stand there no more, Belenus appeared in the doorway. Blue-grey eyes fell on the young woman and she couldn't help but stare back at him. This time, she held his gaze steadily. No one had ever beaten her in a staring contest before; when he finally looked away, however, his gaze flicked to the tall woman -- Apona.

"She's coming with us," he said, then turned and began walking down the hallway.

"What?" Silvana balked as Apona's arm pressed after Belenus. The tall man paused, looking over his shoulder with a faint frown.

"Didn't I make myself clear? You're coming with us. Your mother has agreed."

"Well _I_ did not. I refuse!" Silvana spat, shrugging Apona's arm off. "Do you really think I would willingly leave my ailing mother to go with a bunch of savages with dishonorable intentions? I am remaining here."

Belenus regarded her for a moment, as if judging how serious she was being. Silvana refused to even blink. If he thought she would be so easily kidnapped...

He shrugged. "So be it," he said, and Silvana began to relax... until he stepped towards her, one arm going around her waist. As if she weighed nothing, he hefted her over his shoulder then began to carry her back the way they'd came.

For a second the dark-haired young woman was too utterly shocked at the indecency and audacity of the move to do anything but gasp. Then she regained herself, slamming her fists against his back, kicking with all of her might. Which, she'd been told, was rather considerable.

"Let me go! This instance! Mother!" Her raven's wing hair swept out and obscured her vision, but as he began to walk away she could see her mother laying on her couch once more, eyes shut. "Stop! Please," she cried, tears blurring her vision. "You can not do this, she needs me! Can you not see? She is so sick..."

The man was unmoved by her pleas, not relinquishing his hold on her even the slightest. Her eyes went to the woman, pleading, but she was at Belenus's side, unsympathetic. Silvana's eyes snapped back to the doorway that was even now rapidly receding from their sight and she felt panic welling up inside of her.

"No! No! Let me go!! Mother!" Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she thought it would break right through her ribcage. The feeling was back, the pressure inside of like something was welling up inside of her, struggling to break free. She could feel _it_ clawing at the thin barrier that had always kept it back, threatening to rip through her and escape. Her skin crawled even as another cry ripped from her throat, though she hardly recognized her own voice.

She opened her mouth to scream for her mother again, but the redhead clamped his hand over her mouth, hissing at her to be quiet. She bit down on his hand until she could feel the tang of blood hot against his tongue and the redhead yelped, yanking his hand back.

"Fiends! Barbarians! Let me go _now!_ _Mother!_" Silvana gasped for breath, an odd sort of tingling throughout her entire body, uncomfortable but not painful. Her skin felt like it was on wrong; all she had to do was shift a little bit and she'd be the way she was supposed to be, then she could be free and return to her mother. She slammed her fist down on Belenus's broad back again, trembling at the sight of black hair rippling down the back of her hand.

"Belenus, she's shifting," Apona said calmly.

"... does she know _nothing_?" the redhead asked.

Belenus just grunted as Silvana's knee met solidly with the middle of his chest. Silvana felt a sneak of satisfaction at the sound, baring her teeth at him.

"Handlin' et," the short man said. He swung his fist at Silvana's head and the world went dark.


	4. Chapter 4

**4. **

When Silvana came to, she was laying on a fur, another one draped over her, and there was nothing but the indigo sky, scattered with stars, stretching overhead. Caught up by the sight, she just stayed gazing at the skies for a long moment. They always closed the shutters tightly at dusk; she couldn't remember the last time she'd stared up at the night sky.

Her situation caught up to her, causing her to sit straight up in alarm... then immediately sink back into the fur again as the world pitched and whirled dangerously around her.

"I'd be careful with sudden movement. Sometimes Fergus forgets his own strength."

She looked towards the deep voice, knowing instantly who it was. There was just the hint of roughness to that smooth timbre, an edge of wildness that made that buried part of her twist in response. Belenus was sitting on a stump not far from her furs, sharpening a long, double-edged sword that seemed to big for any human to be able to carry, muchless wield competently.

Silvana glared at him, one hand still pressed to her throbbing forehead. "What do you want from me, barbarian?"

"Barbarian?" He paused at the word, whetstone freezing halfway along the blade, though he looked amused, not angry. He chuckled, raising those blue-grey orbs to regard her steadily. "First, I want your name. Then I want you to drink something, eat something, and rest. We'll be leaving soon and I can't have you vomiting all over the place."

"I will do none of the above. Return me to my mother!"

Belenus studied her for a moment, then lowered his head again. It was several draws of the whetstone down the straight edge of the blade before he spoke again, and when he did, his voice was nearly a growl, so low it was. "No force on earth can do that now, pup. She's beyond your reach."

"I... I do not... believe you," she managed through the sudden clenching of her throat. Her chest constricted hard enough to make her eyes sting with unshead tears, but she refused to let any of them spill. She was a noblewoman of Rome, as dishonored as she was, daughter to Marcus Furius Camillus, and noblewomen did not cry.

"Even if she's not dead now, she'll be by the time you get back to her. Your mother should have been dead months ago. I don't know how she's been hanging on."

"Do not speak as such!" Silvana snapped, rising into a sitting position in her fury and pain. "Why do you taunt me so? Is it not enough that you have kidnapped me, torn me away from my home and my family, and attacked me? Must you mock my mother as well? How cruel you barbarians are."

"Cruel?" He drew his thumb along the blade, lifting it to eyelevel to inspect. His gaze flicked to her over the top of it, taking in her disheveled ebony hair, the golden eyes that nearly glowed in the light from the moon, the defiant tilt of her chin. She was Roman through and through, certainly, but there was something else, something more lurking underneath those golden eyes. "... perhaps," he finally said. "Perhaps what you think to be cruelty is in fact kindness. It's remarkable how often those two are mistaken."

He rose to his feet in a smooth motion. "Apona will be over soon with food. I'd recommend not trying to escape, _m'lady_. Who knows what wild animals are lurking in the forest ready to prey on such a delicate morsel as yourself."

Silvana glared daggers at his back as he strode away, curling her fists into the fur so tightly she could feel her fingernails through the thick leather. Laying down again, she pulled the fur over her head. Her mother? Dying, or, worse, already dead? She desperately didn't want to believe him, but there was something inside of her that _knew_, beyond all certainty, that he wasn't lying.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling pain lance through her chest. Clutching the fur to her face, she began to sob softly, the grief washing away the last of her restraint. This was all too much -- being kidnapped, taken far away from everything she knew, and now being told her mother was dead... It was all so much, happening so quickly...

The sting of loss must have taken more out of her than she thought it had, because the next thing she realized, she was being shaken awake with a gentle, but firm, hand.

"Here," the woman Belenus had called 'Apona' said, pressed a cold, damp scrap of fabric into Silvana's hand. She squeezed it gratefully, pushing herself up into a sitting position. This time the world stayed where it was supposed to be. Silvana wiped her face off, holding the cloth to her eyes, which she was sure were red and puffy from her earlier tears.

Finally, she handed it back to Apona. The matron took it, then held out a bowl of steaming soup. Silvana considered the fact it might be drugged but seized it anyway, tipping the bowl and downing it. She'd always had quite the appetite, and she'd used quite a bit more energy than normal in the past ... She paused, wrinkling her nose.

"How much time has it been?"

Apona looked up from where she was rolling the furs into tight bundles. "T'is the morning of the second day. Now eat up, we've a long travel back to Pack lands."

Silvana felt her stomach knot and twist. "So he was serious, then? About taking me with you?"

Apona chuckled drily. "Pup, Belenus does not joke often, muchless where the fate of a young woman like yourself is concerned."

Silvana lowered her gaze to her bowl, staring at the last remains of the soup. A sudden thought struck her and she raised her head. "Wait... you said the _second_ day?"

Apona nodded. "You were unconcious most of the first."

The young woman paled. That meant she'd missed nearly two doses of her medicine. "I... I need to talk to a healer. Immediately."

"We've already had a healer check you, pup. The blow to your head scrambled you a bit but there'll be no lasting damage." She snorted. "Trust me, we'll gain nothing in your harm or permanent injury."

"That is not my concern," Silvana said clearly, her voice trembling slightly. "I have a condition that requires constant medication. I must speak to a healer so they can prepare the necessary remedy."

Apona paused, mid-roll, and looked up at Silvana sharply. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment Silvana could clearly see the distinct edge of anger in her blue eyes. Then the older woman forced a smile to her lips. "You won't be needing your medicine anymore."

Silvana stared at her, taken aback by the knowing, confident tone of the woman's voice. Then Apona rose, taking the furs except the one that the young woman was still sitting on and striding off. Silvana drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. It was rapidly approaching dusk and all she was wearing was the loose white drape she'd worn to bed the previous night. She couldn't tell if it was the chill bite of the wind or the cold twist of dread at the base of her stomach that caused her skin to prick.

Chin wedged between her knees, she watched the dozen or so men and women move about the camp, packing for what she assumed to be the journey back to Gallic lands. Strange, these people certainly didn't match all the terrible stories she'd been told about Gauls. They had yet to even threaten to sacrifice her and smear her blood on their shields.

Silvana's shoulders shrank in on herself and she resigned herself to watching and waiting to see what fate had in store for her next.

Apparently it was to have a black furred cloak draped around her shoulders. Her hands rose to it as she lifted her head, looking up to find the redhead she'd scratched standing behind her. He held up a pair of leather thong shoes with a crooked grin.

"Hey there, Scratcher. You'll be wanting these on our trip back to Pack lands."

Silvana tied the fur around her gratefully, then took the shoes as well. All the better to escape in, she told herself, then looked up at the redhead again. There was way too much to be thinking about, so she simply decided to just let them take her wherever and hope an opportunity to escape presented itself along the way. "When do we leave?"

"Now," Belenus said, striding up with a horse following behind him. Silvana rose, unsteadily, staring at the giant black stallion.

"I... I cannot walk?"

The redhead behind her laughed; Belenus shot him a quelling glance. Silvana simply stared at her toes, her cheeks burning.

"Don't worry, we're not putting you on a horse alone." He swung himself deftly onto the horse's back, tapping the big beast forward. Leaning over, he held out his hand for Silvana's. She stared at him for a moment, not understanding until the young man behind her gave her a shove.

"Oh, no, I do not--" Silvana started, but Belenus seized her hand and swung her up onto the horse behind him. She let out a squeak of terror at being so high off the ground and curled her hands into the leather at his sides.

"It'll be most comfortable if you put your arms around my waist," Belenus said over his shoulder, and Silvana's cheeks reddened at the teasing tone in his deep voice.

"I am fine as I am," she replied, primly.

"So be it!" Belenus clucked at the stallion, the big beast easily wheeling and beginning to move. As the forest blurred by them, Silvana squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers digging in to the scant purchases she had with all of her might. She was determined not to concede.

That is, until the stallion's muscles bunched and for a moment they were airborn. They thudded down hard and, before she even realized what she was doing, Silvana wrapped her arms around Belenus's thick waist and buried her face against his back. He said nothing, but she was sure he was grinning that infernal grin of his. Quietly fuming, she simply held on, watching the world rush by them on their way to Pack lands.


End file.
